The Die Has Been Cast
by thetriumphator
Summary: A man from a world of gratuitous violence enters one of gratuitous nudity. Watch, as he spends about 90% of his waking life averting his eyes from someplace or other.
1. Chapter 1 - Inertia

**AN:** As a preface, I am taking much inspiration, including the point of crossover, from StaffSergeant's story "The Courier"

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Chapter 1 - Inertia

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Markus Friedrich was a man of many names. Few knew his given name, even fewer used it. In the Capital wasteland he had been dubbed the Lone Wanderer. In the Mojave he was known as Courier Six, or more simply as The Courier.

His enemies gave him their own names. The Legion called him Thanatos, the god of death. He was feared even more than the Burned Man was, as there was no question of whether he lived. The Enclave designated him with the code name "Apollyon". Fitting, as the Angel of the Abyss is viewed as Satan by some and Christ by others. Despite publicly hailing him as a hero, the NCR high command was always wary of his power, realizing that if he turned on them, their days would be numbered.

In the days following the NCR's victory at second battle of Hoover dam, the Courier found himself spending increasing amounts of time in the Big Empty. As one of the brightest minds of the twenty-third century, he, with the aid of the Think Tank, pushed the boundaries of science further than they had ever gone before. Of course, the Courier's strict morals prevented many of the Think Tank's less ethical ideas from harming the people of of the Mojave wasteland. Still, science flourished once again in the crater that was the Big Empty, and not long after the Courier's arrival, a prototype transportalponder was ready to be tested.

This transportalponder Mk. II would form the basis for a revolution of transportation in the wasteland. The new version would be able to take a person from the place of activation to a set point, in this case the sink, and back to the initial position of activation. In addition to this, the range would be increased to cover the entire continent. Therefore, in order to test this, the Lone Courier left Big Mountain and journeyed to the pre-war train station that ran between the Mojave and Capital wastelands.

The NCR largely forgot about Courier after the award ceremony and he, for his part, was content to be forgotten. He had no real investment in the NCR, he supported it merely because it was the most moral option. The corruption and inefficiency that were the vices of the NCR paled in comparison to the detriments of the other options. The brutality and backwardness of the Legion ensued that it was an abomination to concept of morality and the dictatorship of Mr. House would be contrary to the Old World values that the Courier prized so highly of liberty and democracy.

The Second Battle for Hoover Dam, and the conflicts preceding it, left the Courier hardened and cynical, having a pessimistic view of human nature yet still believing that one man could change the course of history. That particular lesson was one taught to him by Ulysses. The Lone Courier still had not checked up on him following the battle of the Divide. Thinking about the Divide also caused the Courier to remember the events of Zion.

He still felt guilty about the fate of the members of happy trails caravan (except Ricky for...obvious reasons). The lives that he had taken and those he had failed to save weighed heavily on the young man.

In the heat of battle, he felt no emotion at the deed of killing. Joshua Graham once told him that killing when done righteously, was a chore. And in battle, he agreed with that sentiment. However, once the dust settled and there was no threat to his life, he felt sympathy towards those he had killed, not knowing whether they were evil or merely victims of the circumstance of their birth. He also felt that there was something that was lost the first time one killed. However, he could no longer remember what that was. All these thoughts plagued the Courier's mind as he made the long trek to the train station.

The trains station was in much the same condition that he had left it in, that is to say, dilapidated and dangerously decayed. Some feral ghouls had taken up residence in the area. They were hardly a threat to the Courier, and six rounds from A Light Shining in Darkness later, six bodies were on the floor. Each had a single bullet wound in the exact center of their forehead.

A sudden wind caused the Courier's duster to flutter much like the flag which was emblazoned on its back. His sunglasses shielded his eyes from the dust of the Mojave that the draft blew through the desolate train station.

It had been months since he had first arrived in the Mojave however, as a result of a near fatal dose of acute lead poisoning, he had forgotten all events that had occurred between boarding the train in the Capital wasteland and waking up in Goodsprings. While some would be concerned by the loss of memory, he was merely thankful that he had lost none of his more important memories.

Once he had boarded the train he sat down and prepared for hours of boredom. Eventually, lost in his thoughts, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep plagued by nightmares and phantoms of the dead.

The squeal of the brakes brought him out of his subconscious self torture. Drawing A Light Shining in Darkness he cautiously approached the door. Hearing the sounds of more feral ghouls on the outside, he slammed the door open and activated VATS. His Pip-boy sent electronic signals to his brain causing him to perceive events as though time had stopped.

Four targets sighted. Three were on the ground level while one was on the upper level of the train station. Four suppressed rounds discharged and four corpses hit the floor. It was over in less than a second. Quickly swapping mags, he then surveyed the area for additional targets. Now that the area appeared to be clear, the Lone Courier set about testing the new and improved transportalponder MK. II.

Despite his pleading (or as he insisted on calling them "well reasoned arguments") with the Think Tank to rename the transportalponder to something less silly, or at least with less syllables, they were adamant that its name remain the same. The Courier eventually gave up and settled with renaming it without their knowledge if it ever went to mass production.

Atomizing A Light Shining in Darkness and summoning the transportalponder MK. II in its place. He held the device at about shoulder height and depressed the trigger. The new version, owing to its more powerful nature required a nearly half a minute to activate. While this was an inconvenience, the Courier was not overly concerned as he did not use it in combat situations to avoid it being damaged.

As soon as the transportalponder started charging, with a large amount of dramatic irony, he suddenly heard someone yell,"It's him!." Shifting his gaze towards the sound, he saw an Enclave squad had wandered onto the upper level. Having been absorbed in using his Pip-boy he had failed to notice them enter the area. There was one officer, two hellfire troopers, and one with a tesla who had identified him.

"Damn, those Enclave bastards don't know when to quit do they. Well, time to add four more to my body count." The Courier thought to himself.

Despite this confidence, the Lone Wanderer was aware that he was in a dilemma. He was not wearing his armor as he had not expected to meet any tangible resistance. While he was confident that he could operate his Pip-boy one-handed, once he had equipped his armor he would not be able to wield a weapon as long as the transportalponder was activating. His plans were thrown into disarray when the transportalponder started to glow with blinding light forcing the Courier to avert his eyes, despite the fact he was wearing sunglasses. Seeing this, the Enclave troopers began to blind fire at the Lone Wanderer. While the projectiles missed, even 9 luck can take one only so far, as much to the Courier's horror, the tesla cannon beam collided directly with the transportalponder.

The device glowed green and started became hot in his hand and the beeps became more frequent and intense. The Lone Couriers last words before being sucked into the portal were, "Oh son of a…"

Despite the efforts of many in both wastelands, the Lone Courier was not to be found, that did not stop the Brotherhood of Steel and the Outcasts from massacring the Enclave in retribution however. Little did anyone know the effect that this piece of seemingly bad luck would have. Despite others having given up, the search the Brains in the Big Empty continued to search for their CEO and missing technology, experimenting with portals of decreasing stability and increasing power. This singular incident would further prove that Ulysses was right. Not only can a single man change the course of history, but the Courier, could change two worlds.

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 **AN:** I _did_ warn you I would reuse this.


	2. Chapter 2 - Recovery

Chapter 2 - Recovery

"...bitch!" The Lone Courier finished as he was violently thrust from the portal and onto a surprisingly soft and very green surface.  
Once the blinding light from the portal had subsided, the Courier could see where he had landed. The surface he had landed on was lush, living grass. As he took the time to examine his surroundings, he soon realized that he was in a forest. Not a series of burned husks or diseased pines, but an honest to God living healthy, forest. The first question in his mind, was quite naturally, where this all had come from.  
This place was healthier than Oasis or Vault 22 and seemed entirely peaceful. The revelation of his new location caused mixed feelings. While he was in the wonder at the sheer amount of life surrounding him, he was also worried as he now had no idea where he was. What was worse, was that upon checking his Pip-boy, he found that it could not establish a connection to a satellite. This was worrying, as Robco satellites were supposed to have global coverage.

To him, this meant that either the area he was in was being jammed, or something had happened to one of the satellites. The second option was the more likely, as it had been two hundred years, leaving plenty of time for something to have happened. This meant that until he either entered the range of another of the satellites or found a paper map, he would be wandering aimlessly.  
The density and health of the foliage suggested extensive use of a, or multiple, GECK(s). To the Lone Wanderer, it was unthinkable that this much life was natural. As much as he hated to admit it, Vault-tec seemed to have done some good.  
Since he had not heard of any area such as this while travelling through the Capital wasteland or in the Mojave, he deduced that he was likely no longer in North America. Rumors of this place would have certainly reached him if this place had been in continental America. He deduced that it was more likely he was in what was once Europe as the species of trees were not consistent with those native to Asia, Africa, or Australia.  
Therefore, he felt his ultimate goal would be to find a way back. Despite how lush the land was, he felt a responsibility towards the people of the wastes and his companions not to abandon them. Thinking about this, he turned his gaze towards the transportalponder MK. II. that was still smoking in his hands. The plastic casing had melted in some places and the circuit boards were sparking. To attempt to use it while it was in this condition would likely do nothing save damage it further. Digitizing the heavily damaged device, he drew his silenced M14.  
His first order of business in finding his way home would be to find and make contact with any civilization that is in the area. While it was entirely possible that the residents of this place did not speak English, the Courier had taken the time to learn several of the European languages (Intelligence 10) including German, French, Russian, Latin, Spanish, and a little Greek as well as Asian languages such as Chinese. Therefore he was relatively confident in his ability to communicate with the locals should they speak a pre-war language. He said "relatively" confident, because while he could read the languages fluently (and write them to a similar degree) speaking them required a different set of skills. It would more than suffice for simple communication however.  
Not sure exactly where he should go the Lone Wanderer set off in a southerly direction from his point of entrance. The local map function of his Pip-Boy was still functional and recorded his path.  
The trees had were spaced so that the Lone Wanderer had adequate line of sight to use his scoped M14. Eventually, he found a river of decent width and depth. It was strange for him to see so much pure water naturally. Even the water in the Mojave wasn't entirely radiation free.  
Remembering that many cities and settlements were built along rivers in order to have a source of fresh water, the Lone Wanderer felt that his best bet would be to follow the river. The only question was whether to go upstream or downstream. The Courier knew that by no means was the idea that a settlement was built on this river reliable to any degree. Therefore, he made it his top priority to head to a higher elevation. There, hopefully he could get out of this damnable forest, or at least the trees would thin out. He determined that getting his bearings, now that he did not have a map, was a necessity. Wandering aimlessly was not an attractive option.

The terrain began to decrease in fertility along the banks of the river, almost as if the forest were parting around it. The ground slowly changed from soft grass to craggy rock that was reminiscent of Zion. He had been right to follow this direction in terms of elevation, as he could tell that it was increasing with every step he took. Visibility in the direction he was headed was limited as not far ahead, cliffs of a non-insignificant height rose to form a canyon.

Then, the Courier had a remarkable stroke of luck. In fact, other than a literal sign, map, or tour guide, this was one of the best things he could have seen. He saw a body in remarkably good condition floating towards him.

A corpse could provide him with much information about his location. Personal effects and the like might allow him to get a highly specific picture of his location. The very presence of the body was indication of some degree of civilization in the immediate vicinity. The worst case scenario would be that there was absolutely nothing around him for hundreds of miles.

The distance between him and the body closed rapidly. Initially, he had only been able to make out a human shape and fleshy colors. As he neared the body, it appeared to be stuck on one of the rocks midstream. The water was totally clear around it; no signs of blood. It quickly became apparent that the body in question was that of an adult female with blond hair and little clothing. There were no visible injuries.

When the Courier reached the point on the bank at which he was parallel with the body, he examined his options. There weren't many. He sighed as he realized that he would have to wade in to pull out the body. The little clothing that _was_ on the body gave him poor prospects of finding any information. It was quite likely that his efforts would be pointless. Resigning himself to his fate, he dematerialized his M14 and drew A Light Shining in Darkness. The Lone Wanderer had not survived as long as he had by taking chances.

With another sigh, he walked into the seemingly icy water. He kept his weapon aimed one-handed loosely at his objective. Fortunately, the water was not deep and did not reach much higher than his knees.

It quickly became apparent, that the "body" was in fact breathing. It seemed his luck had changed. Now, he had a proper source of information about this strange place he had ended up in. However, based on her attire, he set his expectations realistically. She wore "armor" that looked like some kind of fetish wear rather than something intended for protection. She did not seem to be a type that the Courier was unfamiliar with dealing with. However he knew from experience that their mental faculties were typically in a pitiful state. Various Chem addictions had typically taken their toll by now.

Stopping in front of her, he crouched and prodded her, keeping his pistol trained on her. She did not stir. Her skin was cold and clammy. It was evident she had been in here for a while. He flipped her onto her front, checking for any other injuries. There were no open wounds, only a few superficial cuts that had scabbed over a long time ago, as he had suspected due to the lack of blood in the surrounding water. All her limbs were at acceptable angles. Nothing to indicate internal damage. Whether or not she _was_ injured internally, at this rate, she would die of hypothermia long before that would matter.

With little effort, the Courier lifted her with one hand and put her over his left shoulder in a fireman's carry. Despite the "armor" she was wearing, she was very light. He exited the stream further up than where he had entered it. The trees were closer to the banks there.

After gently putting down the woman, he set out to ensure she would not die, at least before he got some information out of her. The first stage of this was starting a fire. The shivers and short, shallow breaths he had observed were not healthy signs, to say the least.

The process took barely a couple minutes. There was plenty of dead wood on the ground that was very dry. Benny's lighter set them ablaze. Be carefully moved the woman closer to the fire. The Courier was keenly aware that most humans had a substantially weaker constitution than he did.

The fire was a initially a small, quick burning, rather pathetic affair. However once the Courier added some greener wood that he had cut with the saw blade edge of his trench knife, it became more stable. Not having anything better to be doing, he created a fire wall to reflect the heat more efficiently onto the woman. In doing so, the Lone Wanderer looked at her more closely.

He had known from cursory examination that she was young and pretty, but now he gained a more accurate picture. She was depressingly young, perhaps his age or slightly older. He leaned towards the latter based on her..development. Her beauty was stunning even by pre-war standards. Her face and body showed none of the marks of an addict. Though the latter did show a _distinct_ lack of modesty. How she ended up floating down a river became something of a mystery. This was only compounded when he saw a glint out of the corner of his eye. Instantly, he dropped, fearing it to be that of a scope. However he returned to his feet once he saw the source originated from the ground on his side of the stream. Closer inspection revealed a sword of fine craftsmanship and metallurgy have covered in sand. Rinsing it in the current, he realized that it fit stylistically with the "armor" the woman was wearing.

With little else to do, the Courier sat down on a fallen log opposite her and put the sword point first in the earth to wait for the woman to wake up.


	3. Chapter 3 - Down The Rabbit Hole

Chapter 3 - Down the Rabbit Hole

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Pain, was the first thing Leina noticed. The second thing she noticed, was heat. The fact that she _was_ feeling anything at all was a very good sign. It meant that she was alive, which was something at least. The pain was explicable. The heat, less so. So, she opened her eyes. And promptly panicked. Her entire field of view was filled with flames. She tried to backpedal and succeeded only with colliding with some object behind her. Now that she had retreated some distance from the fire and the after image of the flames began to fade from her retinas, she managed to take stock of where she had ended up.

The fire was in fact fairly small, nothing like the raging inferno she had initially thought it to be. Inspecting herself, she seemed to be in pretty good condition. She did not seem to have any open wounds or anything broken. Considering what had transpired in the Pyramid, Leina considered herself lucky. She was wearing her armor, her shield was still strapped to her arm, and her sword...wait, she clutched her side, where she normally kept it, where was her sword?

"Missing something?" She looked up, a man was standing on the other side of the fire, leaning her sword.

"You'll forgive me if I found it prudent to disarm you as I know neither your identity nor your intentions."

The man was wearing some kind of mirrored glasses that ominously reflected the flickering firelight. He wore a sleeveless duster that had traces of a reddish dust, not typical of this climate. He was tall and heavily muscled yet his face betrayed his youth.

"Who are you? Where am I?" Leina asked, confused by her surroundings.

"I'll answer the former after you answer the latter." Said the man

"What?" said Leina, still confused.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"How should _I_ know? _You_ brought _me_ here."

"Not exactly. I found you floating down this river. Not one to leave someone to freeze to death, and in need of information, I retrieved you and built this fire. I'm hesitant to admit this, but I have absolutely no idea where I am. Suffice to say, it was a result of some very strange circumstances. Therefore even the most broad information you can give me about our location would be extremely helpful."

While he was not dressed in any standard of elegance, the young man spoke with elegance Leina had never seen outside of nobility. His story, while vague, was odd. He seemed to be a stranger in a strange land. Not the first she had encountered.

"This land is known as Cathay. Far to the east lies Hinomoto. I was heading to the capital of Gainos before well…"

She just then thought back to the series of events that had led to her floating down a river for the second time in as many days. Her journey was not going exactly as planned to say the least.

"Well then, my name is Markus, Markus Friedrich."

"Leina Vance. Thank you for saving me."

"Think nothing of it."

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The Courier was confused as all hell. While "Cathay" sounded familiar, he knew that there was no old world state by that name. Hinomoto sounded Japanese. Yet, it did not look or feel as the far east should. Nor was the woman he had fished out of the river asian. Furthermore, Vault-tec did not operate in the far east and China lacked the technology needed to rejuvenate the land like this. The Lone Courier was beginning to doubt the accuracy of this woman's information. He could tell that she was not lying, he could read people like that, but that did not dismiss the possibility that she believed what she was saying, but what she believed was simply incorrect. Insanity was an entirely possible explanation.

She seemed harmless enough, so he tossed her the sword. Not that it would give her any real advantage if she attacked him, but rather as a gesture of goodwill. She caught it with enough ease to suggest she was practiced at handling it. That brought up a host of questions.

"Why are you wearing...that?"

"It was my mother's. Besides, I need something to protect me."

Evidently she was totally oblivious that what she wore covered maybe a quarter of her body and left virtually nothing to the imagination.

"And why a sword?"

"It was also my mother's. Besides, maces and axes are too cumbersome."

Well, insane it was. She seemed to totally miss the point of all of his questions. It wasn't that she was stupid, he speech was too refined for that, but she simply did not comprehend what he was asking. The Courier gave up on that line of questioning.

Insane was perfectly acceptable for him. He had spent large amounts of time among people with varying degrees of sanity. As long as she could help him get to a settlement of group of more sane people, she would be good enough. Even if she wasn't insane, and this was a place where everyone had been reduced to using medieval era weaponry like the Legion, he needed confirmation of that.

However, before he could ask the question, Leina had run to the water's edge. He followed suit. A younger girl appeared to be floating down the river, this one more ridiculously dressed than the last. Markus stopped next to Leina.

"Nanael!" she said with concern. Markus presumed it was the other girl's name.

"I'll get her," he said resignedly. Leina looked like she was going to protest, but he went ahead before she could.

The most striking feature about Nanael, as she was apparently called, was her blue hair. That was strange by itself. Combined with her strange apparel, it made everything that had happened since the transportalponder incident an enigma. Once the Courier reached her, he stopped, preparing to lift her more ceremoniously than he had Leina, purely for the sake of friendly relations. As he moved to do so, his world shattered. She had wings.

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 **AN:** Strangely, the Continent Queen's Blade takes place on has no canon name. Since it looks similar to China I used an old name for China for the purposes of this story.


	4. Chapter 4 - Off the Deep End

Chapter 4 - Off the Deep End

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Alright, time to rationalize what he was seeing. The girl he had found who looked very much like an angel both in dress and in the fact that she had _fucking wings,_ was likely the result of genetic experimentation. It was the only rational explanation he could come up with. Judging by the fact that one of the wings was far smaller than the other, the experiment was likely a failure. He didn't even bother trying to rationalize her clothing. It didn't matter. He picked her up in the more dignified bridal carry. While it gave Leina a better impression of him, it also had the added advantage of getting less water on him.

Leina was watching him the entire time. She followed him once he left the stream, looking with concern at the girl he was carrying. Nanael was evidently her name. It sounded suitably hebrew.

He placed her where he had put Leina before. The fire was still going strong, and the fire wall he had built doubled as a log pile. She seemed in far better shape than Leina had been in when he had found her. Though, due to her strange physiology, he felt he could not make any conclusive judgements about her health.

"Your friend going to be okay?" he asked Leina.

He supposed it was better to get an "expert"'s opinion. To his great relief, she nodded. While he had little invested in Nanael's safety, attempting emergency medical care on some aberration of science was not something he planned on doing today.

He walked away, leaving the winged girl by the fire. While he was not facing her, he could tell Leina had walked over to her. Not turning he said,

"Care to explain why your friend has wings?"

"Oh, Nanael's an Angel."

Right. The insanity. He was beginning to despair of getting any usable information. Perhaps Nanael could provide some, but he kept his expectations realistic. If he judged Nanael's mental state from the company she kept, it was similarly unreliable.

However, upon further thought, the Courier realized he was being hypocritical. If someone were to judge him on the company _he_ kept, it was likely they would come to the conclusion in regards to _his_ sanity.

But then, any benefit of the doubt he might have given Nanael was dismissed in an instant at her mumblings. In this instance, his acute perception was more of a curse than a blessing. Evidently Leina hadn't missed her unconscious mumblings either as she said,

"What are you dreaming about?!"

That woke Nanael up. However, the Courier couldn't possibly be paying any less attention. After hearing a slight unnatural sound, he had turned around. In an instant, the entire forest died. Well fuck. That was not good. In another instant, the Courier was wearing one of the masks he had taken from the Divide. Anything that could kill that amount of trees that quickly was one hell of a bio-weapon. And his mask would likely not help that much. Still, he seemed to still be alive. As did the two crazys now in front of him.

"Who's that girl up there?" Leina asked Nanael.

The Courier had been so distracted by the potential implications of the deployment of a bioweapon that he had not noticed a girl _flying unaided_. She was just floating in the sky in a stereotypical maid outfit and a scythe.

At this point, Markus was wondering whether _he_ was the crazy one. He could not even begin to consider how little sense any of this made. And then, Nanael opened her mouth, and it got worse.

"That's Ari, the infernal temptress. Maybe she's causing trouble in the elven forest. If so, that means she's going to have a one-on-one with combat master Alleyne! See you later, I gotta go!" and with that, she flew off.

First of all, her voice was so annoying, the Courier considered shooting everyone in earshot, himself included, as a merciful escape. Secondly, every word that came out of her mouth made less and less sense. It sounded like he had ended up in some second-rate fantasy book. Of course, that wouldn't explain the ridiculous outfits. But mostly, the Lone Courier simply felt utterly overwhelmed. He supposed it was culture shock or something similar. Nothing made sense. Reality was virtually falling apart in front of him.

"Who's combat master Alleyne?" said Leina rhetorically, "or for that matter, who's this infernal temptress Ari?"

Markus just shook his head wordlessly.

Then, said "infernal temptress" swung her scythe and killed a swathe of trees surrounding her. Leina ran in that direction. The Courier followed, easily keeping pace with her sprint.

And then things got worse. It was a common theme of events since his arrival. A pink, purple, dome of energy surged from the location they were headed towards. It passed through them harmlessly.

Soon, he and Leina had reached the clearing in which Ari and some other girl were dueling. Nanael hovered overhead.

"That made using a scythe is much more powerful," Leina observed.

After taking a second to appreciate just how ludicrous that sounded, the Courier made a vague, non-verbal, affirmative sound.

"Coming all this way to this remote forest was well worth the trip," said the maid to her opponent, "your essence looks delicious."

Of course, more things he didn't understand. He was seriously wondering what it would take for him to hit rock bottom in terms of comprehension. The Courier had seen some exceedingly weird things in the wastelands, but he drew the line well before a flying maid wielding a scythe that killed large amounts of trees and apparently nothing else.

The girl retreated, with the flying maid pursuing. Leina and Markus ran after them. The girl ambushed the maid and sent her skidding a good couple meters along the ground.

"Well, that was quick," Leina said, "the elf's in charge now."

So apparently the other girl was an elf. Okay. That was fine. Nothing weird about that at all.

"You can pull off some amazing maneuvers when you're in the forest," said Ari, even as superficial damage to her face and clothes regenerated, "Unfortunately, it won't be enough to defeat me."

And then it got worse. A bunch of spectral faces emerged from her back.

"Are those ghosts?" said the elf.

The Courier hoped not. In fact, he hoped this entire thing was some kind of simulation or datura trip gone very wrong. However, he had a decent record versus ghosts. Especially the kind you could stab to death with cosmic knives. Evidently, they did nothing more than knock the elf over. The maid put her scythe's blade between her opponent's legs.

"It's as if you're more of an animal than a girl," taunted Ari, "You aren't even wearing underwear."

"What?, she has no underwear?" said Leina, turning bright red.

It was fairly ironic, considering what she herself was wearing. Other than that, the Courier was to far gone to even remotely care. He hadn't even noticed Nanael rejoin them.

"She's an elf, that's the way they like it," the angel said.

Quite strangely, that statement, while largely nonsensical, made the most sense out of everything he had heard so far. He could comprehend the concept of a society that simply does not utilize underwear. He could not see the reasoning, but a cultural oddity was within his range of understanding. What he was witnessing in front of him however, he would not have expected in the most chemfueled of dreams.

The ghosts had taken the elf close to the maid. The maid then essentially sexually assaulted the other girl. Well, that gave him enough grounds to kill her.

"That maid is a monster!" said Leina, "We have to do something!"

"Bu-but we can't interfere," said Nanael, "If we get involved, it's going to invalidate the match! Don't do that!"

The Courier covered her mouth with one hand.

"Shut it."

He had no idea real idea what was going on. But what he did have, was a target. So, he took out his trench knife and put his fingers through the knuckle dusters. He was going to punch a bitch's head in, and then, he would get some answers. By any means necessary.


	5. Chapter 5 - Acceptance

Chapter 5 - Acceptance

* * *

Leina had grabbed the elf, which was good. Nanael was complaining and Leina was posturing. He tuned them out. He walked purposefully towards the demon, maid, Airi, thing.

She said some kind of generic derogatory inquiry in regards to his identity. He punched her in the face.

The sheer kinetic force behind the blow sent her to the ground. The image that remained was grisly one. While when it was used by a normal person, the spiked knuckles of the trench knife were the business end, in this instance, they were virtually irrelevant. It was the Courier's substantial muscles, augmented by extensive cybernetics that made the strike so very devastating.

As her face regenerated before his eyes, her clothes disappeared and she became incorporeal. Right. He double checked his Pip-boy to ensure he wasn't drugged.

She then floated away swearing vengeance.

"Yeah, yeah, go fuck yourself," he said tiredly, waving a hand at her without looking. Markus could not care less what he said at this point or who was listening.

He was getting answers; no matter how many skulls he needed to smash. However, an unforseen problem now stymied his efforts. He now faced Leina and the elf. Both had collapsed. He was not sure how Leina had gotten injured, but all it meant was that now he had no one conscious except Nanael to get answers from. And with how annoying her voice was, he was not sure he wanted them.

Suddenly, there was movement in the trees behind Nanael. Instantly he drew A Light Shining in Darkness and trained it on the source of the noise.

"Friend or foe?" he called, suddenly all business.

Another elf (he could tell by the archetypal ears) stepped out from behind a tree.

"What are you?" she asked

He lowered his weapon.

"Me? I'm just the Grim Reaper, death incarnate. Better watch out, I'm coming for your soul," he said with biting sarcasm.

She raised her weapon.

"I was being facetious," he said tiredly.

She lowered her weapon.

"Can you please explain what is going on here?"

"I'll answer any questions you may have after we get these two stabilized."

That was fine. No sense raving like a lunatic. No sense at all. Everything he had seen certainly had a rational explanation.

Nanael was ranting about how this had invalidated the match. Whatever that meant. In a particularly sadistic moment, he considered waterboarding the answers out of the angel. It would simultaneously get him answers, and shut her up. She did however, seem concerned for Leina's safety. Which made her slightly less annoying. It showed that she had at least some degree of empathy. A trait that was often depressingly hard to come by.

The older elf woke the younger one with a little effort. The Courier sighed as he picked up Leina.

"What's the plan?" he asked the older elf.

"Follow me," she said.

The younger elf seemed dazed and unsteady on her feet. There was a slow drip of blood down Leina's torso. The injury was between her breasts. It appeared to be a very superficial laceration, only skin deep. She should be fine in a matter of days. The bleeding should stop within minutes. There did not seem to be any reason why she had collapsed.

They stopped in front of some hut built from the stump of a tree that could only have been a redwood on account of its enormous size. The woman held the door open for him and gestured for him to put Leina down on a bed inside.

He did so. Then sat down with a sigh. The younger elf sat down on a chair next to Leina. She initially looked tired, but the second Leina awoke, she appeared full of energy.

"My name is Nowa, the keeper of this forest. This is Lou," she said, indicating the small primate on her shoulder, "he's one of my most trusted friends."

"Keeper of the forest?" asked Leina.

Right. Because that was the weird part. Was he taking crazy pills? He decided to just ride this out then interrogate someone.

"Yeah, I keep the forest pure by preventing intruders from coming in."

"How's that going for you?" the Courier said sarcastically.

"Oh no! I should have never allowed humans to get so deep within it!"

Nowa visibly deflated at this long overdue realization.

Leina then awkwardly tried to apologize.

"I'm sorry I didn't know-" but Nowa stopped her.

"You saved me, it's alright, I owe you my life. My captain told me it's best to forget the favors owed to you and remember the favor that you owe others."

Markus took a second to dissect that statement. The sentiment was a very sheltered one, incongruous with the harsh reality of the wastes. This talk of captains only made things stranger. While Nowa had displayed remarkable agility, she did not exactly seem to be of military mettle.

"Your captain," voiced Leina.

The Courier was highly unsurprised when the older elf entered.

"Long ago, the elven race was once savagely persecuted by humans," she said.

"Why am I not surprised," said the Courier. Humanity had always had possessed a hatred of the new and different. Even as far away from the known as he was, human nature remained the same.

"Since then," continued the "captain", "we've always held humans in contempt for being ruinous and cruel beings," the Courier couldn't entire disagree with that, however he felt that was an oversimplified, and overly cynical view of the world and a very narrow view of an entire species.

"That's why their presence in this forest is strictly forbidden. But now, my student has thoughtlessly let two in. You scored a zero, Nowa."

"However," she continued, "we don't forget the favor that we've been shown. Even if that favor has come from humans." So it seemed they had a strictly honor-bound society. Great.

"I am Alleyne, the combat master of the elves who live in this forest."

"Oh," said Leina, "You're combat master Alleyne?"

It was at this point the Courier reconciled himself with his fate. It was evident that the transportalponder had taken him to a fairytale or something of an equally ridiculous nature. The only thing left to do was to determine _what_ he would do here. Of course, top priority was finding a way back. However, it was clear that based on what he had seen of the technology here, he was better off trying to find a wizard to take him back than trying to find the components to fix the transportalponder. Sure, he needed some information, but his prospects looked bleak. There were too many people of too varied backgrounds for this to be insanity. And as he had seen, magic, or at least technology sufficiently advanced to be indistinguishable from it and operated by people who don't understand it, certainly was present.

When Alleyne and Nowa went to treat Leina's injury, he turned away out of courtesy. He took the time of literally staring at a wall to plan his long term goals. Perhaps he might do as he did in the Wastes, and solve the problems of this place. He was certain that his scientific knowledge and combat prowess should be sufficient in accomplishing anything he chose. He decided that for the time being, it would be better to refrain from using firearms. He did not want to draw attention to himself. At least, not until he knew more about the situation of this medieval fantasy world he found himself in. Well, at least on the bright side, things should be easier for him. Nothing here would be quite as dangerous as what he encountered on a daily basis in the Mojave. Or so he thought.


	6. Chapter 6 - Clarity

Chapter 6 - Clarity

* * *

His plan was a simple one. Step one: acquire information. Step two: make a better plan. Markus was not terribly happy with this plan, but keeping things simple was a mantra of his. As his information was very simplistic, so too did his plans need to be. Until he got more specific information he could not determine his objectives in this strange land.

That being said, as he sat on a rock outside the stump-house, he went over what he knew, not attempting to rationalize any of it as it had become increasingly apparent that reason as he knew it did not exist here. Firstly, he was in a place he had never heard of. Cathay or something. They didn't seem to have firearms or at the very least they were not considered a practical option. There were winged creatures known as Angels. And the only one he had seen, was unbelievably annoying.

There also seemed to be some kind of demons that stole people's souls by sexually assaulting them. From recent experience, he knew that they could regenerate and become incorporeal at will. The last bit hurt his brain a little bit and he had to make a deliberate effort not to think about it. However, this was by no means concrete evidence and only what he had been able to observe. There may have been other mechanics at work.

There were also elves, who seemed to have no physiological difference from humans other than pointed ears and perpetual youth. The latter was a far bigger deal than the former. It meant that it was very easy for a elf to outmatch him in combat skill as they could have thousands of years of experience. Yet, by the level of technology the elves possessed, the Courier knew that there must have been stagnation. The weapons they wielded would never really have been considered cutting edge technology. Therefore, Markus hoped that his scientific knowledge and more advanced combat theory would give him an unbeatable edge.

Finally, he mentally addressed the elephant in the room. So far, literally every single person he had encountered had outfits he would consider more appropriate on the New Vegas strip than in a medieval/fairy tale setting he found himself in. As far as he could tell, this was the norm. It was a strange cultural variation when one considered that they even spoke the same language.

The entire experience was, and had been, very surreal. The fact alone that was currently sitting on a rock, in a forest, outside the house of an elf, made him feel like he was in a german fairytale. The weight of A Light Shining In Darkness in its holster was a comfort. While he had resolved not to use firearms (at least openly) for strategic reasons, it was always good to have an ace in the hole. He supposed that while this was certainly stranger than the Sierra Madre, it was significantly less ominous. By wasteland standards, he was currently in a scene of unimaginable beauty.

* * *

It had been a few hours since the elven medicine had taken effect, and Leina felt in good enough shape to not want to spend more time in a bed. Nowa and Alleyne had gone off to convince the elder to allow her to remain in the forest until she had recovered as well as to convey her desire to express her gratitude to said elder in person.

She was not entirely sure why she left the hut. Perhaps is was because she had nothing better to do. Perhaps it was at least partly because of her curiosity in regards to her very odd inadvertent companion. She certainly owed him. He had saved her life at least once; twice in all likelihood. The last thing she saw before losing consciousness was him punching the temptress in the face. She winced even at the memory of the sound the impact had made. The fact that they were all still alive, meant that he had won the battle. Leina knew that there were few people who could take on a wraith and survive, much less win. It was clear to her, that whoever he was, he was dangerous, though not to her.

She saw him leaning on a rock, bathed in the late evening light. His eyes seemed focused on an interminable point in the distance, as if deep in thought. A light breeze caused the back of his clothing to flutter. From what she had seem, a peculiar two headed bear was emblazoned on it. Perhaps it was some kind of family crest? Despite the rough looking apparel, the man's speech and abilities would support the idea that he was a noble. Leina had little experience with male warriors. Markus, as she remembered his name was, was built rather as one would expect a warrior to be. Tall, with large muscles that distracted her more than she would have liked. He was no longer wearing his mirrored glasses. She took a deep breath and took the plunge.

However, before she could say anything, she was preempted.

"Leina, I see you're up already. For an injury that left you unconscious, you've recovered remarkably quickly." He had not turned to face her.

"How did you know it was me?"

He stood and turned to face her.

"Who else is there?"

She flushed, realizing the absurdity of her previous question.

"Now, if you don't mind," he said sitting back down on the rock, this time facing her, "there are a few questions I would like answered."

"Um, I guess so."

"What can you tell me of this place?"

"The elven forest? I know no more than you do."

"More generally, the entire country."

"The capital is Gainos, from which the queen rules, where I am headed. If I had a map, it would be easier to explain. To the north are the Vance lands."

"Isn't your name Vance?"

"Yes." said Leina, her tone purposefully crafted to indicate to drop that particular subject. Evidently, Markus was no stranger to social cues, as he let the matter drop.

The more questions he asked, the more apparent it was just how unfamiliar her rescuer was with this place. He asked questions about everything from the system of government to the climate. However, he was being almost frustratingly vague on where he came from, and how exactly he got here.

"So this Queen's Blade tournament is how you decide the next Queen?" asked Markus. He was utterly befuddled by this. The institution sounded like something the Legion would come up with.

"Yes," said Leina, "it ensures that the Queen is always the strongest and most beautiful woman in the land."

The Courier was not sure how a combat tournament judged who the most beautiful was, but didn't put much thought into it. The main issue was the concept that gladiatorial matches were used to determine who would become dictator for the next four years. And this was apparently sanctioned by Angels. Supreme executive power should not be derived from personal physical strength and combat ability. The Courier did not like this one bit.

"So you and traveling to the capital to participate in the Queen's Blade?"

"Not exactly," she answered, "I'm traveling there to look for a friend of mine who will be competing. I'm still undecided about my own participation."

"I see," said Markus, "I would also like to go to the capital as I believe that there a several people there I would like to speak with, to see if I can determine a way to return to where I came from. Not knowing this place at all, I would like to accompany you to that end."

"Sure," said Leina, she owed him enough. Besides, she felt she would have a better time with someone else to accompany her. He wasn't Risty, but with his combat expertise, she knew she would be feeling a little more secure in the event either of the demons she had previously encountered returned to seek revenge. The elves had returned to summon them to the elders. What was the worst that could happen?


	7. Chapter 7 - Politicking and Passivity

Chapter 7 - Politicking and Passivity

* * *

The journey to the city of the elves was uneventful. The Courier gave the vaguest answers he could to the prodding questions of Nowa and Alleyne. The less people knew about him, the better.

He did however, marvel at the beauty of the forest around him. The women paled in comparison. Naked women, were not uncommon in Vegas; a living forest? Unheard of. Even Oasis was contaminated with radiation.

Forcing his mind to more pressing concerns, he analyzed his current companions. Nowa seemed very childlike, more so than anyone else he had met and possessed the same degree of cheerfulness. Alleyne seemed very rigid and professional, yet she still wore clothing that would have indicated she was anything but. Leina was...well, he wasn't sure what to make of her. He knew she was certainly a fairly moral person, as she stepped in to help Nowa, despite the protests of Nanael. Speaking of Nanae, where was she? He had not seen her since her complaints about the interruption of the fight. No one else seemed to notice she was gone. While Markus considered voicing his observation, he decided that he would rather have some degree of peace in this place.

Markus was not particularly happy with the world he had ended up in. That sounded incorrect. It would be more precise to say that he was not happy with the state of society in this world as far as he could gather from Leina.

The elven city was a breathtaking sight. The only city that the Lone Courier had to compare it to, was New Vegas. They seemed like polar opposites. While Vegas was dirty, run-down, and painfully bright, this city was one that consisted entirely of nature. The houses were built into the very trees of the forest. The Courier was fairly certain that that should not have been possible, yet he merely quietly accepted it.

Upon arrival, the Courier took a passive role in the proceedings, content to merely observe and remain silent. Leina had a better understanding of the customs of this land. To him, it seemed strange to come all this way to convey her gratitude (she implied she spoke for them both, which was fine by him) in a single sentence. Outside the hall of the elder, he did not miss the whisperings of the various elves. Nor did Leina it seemed. Apparently none of them knew how to whisper properly. The general consensus was that the two of them looked "dangerous". Which was certainly true in his case. Though, he found it strange to be in the same category as Leina.

Nowa, however, had things a bit worse. Evidently the elder's decision to give Leina and him sanctuary in this place was an unpopular one, and a burden passed to Nowa for her part in allowing them entry. It seemed that no one had informed them of the fact that an infernal temptress had her occupied at the time.

* * *

"Nowa?" Leina remarked at seeing the elf taking the blame for them.

"It seems no one told them about the infernal temptress that caused this mess," her companion remarked drily. They both walked away, realizing that getting involved would only make things worse for everyone involved.

Leina found it a bit strange how quiet Markus was. He hardly ever spoke. Yet, he followed her consistently. She figured it was because he was from some foreign land and assumed she knew what she was doing. Which she really didn't, but she would not admit that to him.

The sun was beginning to set, when they both heard Nowa above them.

"Oh, it's okay, I'm alright Lou, you don't have to be worried about me."

"Is she talking to her monkey," mouthed Markus.

Leina shrugged.

"Nowa, do you mind if we come up?"

"Leina! Markus!" she seemed delighted to see them. They both independently hoped it wasn't because they were the last friends she had.

"Everybody's worried," said Nowa, once the were seated on the platform.

"Worried?" asked Leina.

"I'm not a pure elf because half of the blood running through me is human. Because of that, everyone has always been afraid that one day I'll cause something terrible to happen.

"The more things change, the more they stay the same," Leina barely heard Markus mutter to himself.

"But that doesn't make sense," she protested, "you can't be blamed for what you are. You didn't have a choice!"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," said Nowa.

"Besides," said Leina, "aren't you the one who's fighting to protect the forest?"

"Yes and that's such a great honor."

"Huh," said Leina.

"I'm really proud that I have a job as important as protecting the forest. That way, I get to protect everybody that I care about."

"Nowa,"

"Besides, it doesn't matter what anybody else says, I'm still me, aren't I."

* * *

The Courier had no idea what he was doing. He had figured his best bet would to be to get to the capital. And not knowing anything about this place and lacking a map, he figured accompanying Leina would be the best option. He had not anticipated having to awkwardly deal with the identity crisis of an elf. To him, Nowa seemed idealistic without having any properly defined ideals. She seemed kind of lost, and without real direction or ambition.

Markus was leaning on a tree, watching her train. And Leina did not feel that he was impressed. One of his eyebrows was slightly raised, showing the same amount of interest one would at the accomplishments of a child. She did not like the feeling and tried to ignore it and trained with increased resolve.

"So it doesn't matter what anyone says huh," she said to herself. She took out Risty's coin. She was contemplating her motivations when she heard a voice.

"Is the trouble maiden finally coming of age?"

"Oh, great, you again," she heard her companion say.

"Nanael!" she exclaimed.

"There's something neat happening in the village, and I'm pretty sure you're gonna wanna see it."

The Courier was thoroughly unimpressed by the stealth skills of his two companions. While he had not expected much, he had expected at least some degree of competence when they proposed embarking on this mission. It was because of this, they had to stop a relatively far way away from their objective. The council of the elves was not difficult to hear.

"There was an oracle this evening from the forest spirits." The Courier's eye twitched slightly at that sentence.

"Eventually, a momentous conflict will arise between two forces. And once the conflagration ignites, its flames will engulf our land." This was met by shocked gasps.

"Is there nothing we can do?" asked one of the council members.

"Isn't it true we're doomed because of the half-breed? Her human blood has brought this destruction upon us." said the man on his right. While it sounded bigoted, the Courier realized that with everything he had seen so far, it was entirely possible that that was the case.

"If that's true, why don't we send her to be part of that foolish competition." It took the Lone Wanderer a second before he realized that the elf was referring to the Queen's Blade. That tournament that decided who would be dictator for the next four years.

"You're right, whether or not she wins will be irrelevant. There is merit in what you propose. Does anyone oppose this plan?" A chorus of "No objections," emanated from the council.

"Then the decision is unanimous. Alleyne. You will prepare Nowa to depart for tomorrow."

"Understood."

"What's going on?" asked Leina. Evidently there were some things even _she_ didn't understand here. It was nice not being the only one utterly confused. Nanael kindly provided an explanation.

"The council of elders is trying to lay all the blame on Nowa and get her kicked out of the forest. It's so unfair and cruel!" she said gleefully, "They can't get away with this! But I bet you could go down there and teach them all a lesson. Why don't you start with Alleyne!"

Aaand Leina was off.

"Aren't you an angel?" asked the Courier, "I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to be instigating conflict, nor should you be this happy about it."

"How would _you_ know what angels are supposed to be doing?"

Markus just caught up to Leina. Evidently angels were not inherently good. It was something to keep in mind.

"Why don't you stop them," she asked Alleyne.

"Because the forest matters most," she replied.

The Courier was now confused. As far as he knew, there were other forests. Was this one special in some way?

"You know Nowa holds you in the highest regard, are you simply going to tell her to leave?" said Leina.

Markus wasn't sure what she was trying to accomplish. As far as he could tell, Alleyne did not have the ability to overrule the council in this matter.

"It could be fated, the day long anticipated has arrived unpredictably." said Alleyne stoically.

The second part of that sentence sounded like the activation phrase for a sleeper cell or something. It was cryptic to the extreme.

"That is nonsense," said Leina, voicing his thoughts.

"To my knowledge, Nowa has been prepared for this challenge."

"But how?"

"She's made the decision to go herself. If everyone in the forest wants her in the Queen's Blade competition, she'll want that too."

That particular point hit a little too close to home for the Lone Wanderer. It brought up memories that he made particular effort to keep buried.

"Which is the wrong reason," argued Leina, "you're the only one who can stop her now."

"Foolish human," said Alleyne, voicing his thoughts, "that's impossible. It's complicated, but you wouldn't understand."

It actually wasn't complicated. The council of elders had decided to exile Nowa. Alleyne lacked any power other than martial skill and thus lacked any way of preventing her exile.

"The laws of the forest cannot be changed; not by the vagaries of human thought."

"No don't, no please, this is all wrong", said Leina, "You're going to regret this. You know Nowa deserves better than this." She was distracted by Nowa's monkey pulling at her leg. Alleyne started to walk away.

"Most who suffer deserve better. I have met very few people in my travels that have deserved the suffering they have borne," the Courier said to Leina. He had made sure not to get involved in something in which victory was impossible. In this instance, he did all he could to lessen the pain of Leina's defeat.


	8. Chapter 8 - To Those Who Wait

Chapter 8 - To Those Who Wait

* * *

The Courier leaned against a tree, watching Leina duel Nowa. Alleyne stood between the trees on his right, also watching. He rested his head in one hand, basically face palming in exasperation. Nowa seemed confused (and rightly so in the Courier's opinion) as to why Leina was doing this. In Markus' experience, engaging someone in a duel was a highly peculiar means of convincing them to do something. Leina also seemed to be under the misconception that Nowa had a choice in this matter. She had been effectively banished. She wasn't going to this tournament for exercise.

Fortunately, it didn't take long for Leina give up on persuading Nowa to stay. Nowa said some things of a sincere and vague nature that somehow managed to convey to Leina that she really had no choice in the matter.

* * *

They said their goodbyes just outside the forest. Nowa was taking a different route to the capital. Nanael, for whatever reason, had left. Not that he was complaining. Not only was her voice torturous for him to listen to, but she reminded him of the illogicality of this place every time he saw her.

It was a novel experience for Markus to be the companion, rather than have a companion for once. As he lacked access to satellite maps or even paper maps, he was forced to rely on Leina if he hoped to do anything other than wander the continent aimlessly. The Courier wasn't entirely sure what he expected to find at the capital, but he was certain it was his best option.

* * *

"You're 100% sure this is the right way?" asked Markus.

"I'm as sure as I was twenty minutes ago," replied Leina.

The Courier was substantially less sure. The fire and brimstone might have had something to do with it. The fact that the Lone Wanderer had seen nuclear wastelands that were more aesthetically pleasing than this place said something. From what he knew of history, roads to the capital were typically of high priority and would avoid places like this.

After hearing a cry of help, the Courier led Leina to one of these sulphurous pools from which it had originated. There, the Courier saw things that sounded like something out of a chem trip. Various hand-like shapes of the pool of strange substance sought to drag a pinkish angel down to the bottom. Even this one's cries for help were less annoying than Nanael's normal speaking voice. He was relieved to find out that not all angels were as annoying as she was. He hoped this one didn't also try to instigate fights for that tournament (how _did_ that work anyway?).

After Leina had used a belt to fish her out, they had introductions.

"That was close," said Leina, "I'm glad we weren't too late."

"So am I," said the angel, "Who are you?"

In that moment, the Courier idly wondered whether all of these "angels" were female. He knew that the few angels mentioned in the Bible were all male, but he doubted anything he knew applied here.

"I'm Leina, little angel".

"You mean you're-you're Leina the wandering warrior?"

"You're famous?" asked the Courier, turning to face her. He had not been expecting that. It might prove useful in the future.

"This is Markus," said Leina, addressing the angel. Markus nodded in her direction.

"You wouldn't happen to know Nanael, would you?" asked Leina.

"Of course!" Shit. "Uh, I'm sorry that's she's caused you so much trouble. Allow me to apologize on behalf of the angels." Oh, well at least she was an anomaly. Wait. She hadn't caused much trouble to his knowledge. So she had been annoying Leina even before he came to this place. It was a wonder Nanael was still alive. She was the kind of person who was too annoying to survive in the wastes. Either this place was much more civilized, or Nanael was very good at looking out for herself.

"You don't owe me an apology," said Leina, "I'm the only one to blame for what happened"-wait, what happened?-"I wasn't strong enough."

The Courier now knew that he was missing some critical information. The reason he had previously not asked about Leina's past was that she would likely reciprocate. And that would just be confusing.

"That's so amazing!" said the angel, Markus wasn't sure what she thought was amazing, but he would have bet money that it wasn't, "You really are Leina the Wandering Warrior."

As far as titles went, "the Wandering Warrior" was an odd one. It was highly unspecific. Hell, he could probably rattle off about fifty people whom that label applied to. So, that meant that Leina was not only _a_ wandering warrior, but _the_ Wandering Warrior. Of course, that led him to question what exactly she had done to warrant such fame and reverence from a literal angel. From what he could tell (and by her own admission), her fighting prowess was nothing really notable. He would be surprised if she could hold her own against a centurion.

"Um," said Leina, "Do me a favor? Stop saying wandering warrior, it's not my name. Nanael came up with that. As for the Queen's Blade, I've never really been a part of it."

Well Leina's sanity rating certainly went up by a few points after that statement. The Courier did find the idea of Nanael as Leina's head of marketing to be a humorous idea.

"Oh what a shame," said the angel, who had still not introduced herself, "I bet if I was strong like you are I would win the Queen's Blade tournament and become the new queen."

And the angel just slid a few points down the sanity meter. If Leina apparently had a shot at being literally the best female fighter in the land, the Courier could conquer this place with a Legion expeditionary force.

"You're very kind," said Leina, "which is more than I can say for Nanael. Well, we'll be on our way now. Take care."

As they both began to walk away from the angel, they heard behind them,

"Hey, it's nothing but swamp up ahead. You should really find another way to travel."

The Courier looked pointedly at Leina but they continued on regardless.

After what seemed like an eon, they eventually reached country that was healthier. The landscape reminded the Courier of pictures he had seen of western Europe before the war. Everything was green and lush. Trees and farms were scattered bountifully through the countryside. Then, he heard a painfully familiar scream, and look up. _Great._ He pulled Leina out of the way of Nanael's fall.

"Oh, if it isn't Nanael, why am I not surprised," said Leina, "Do you have something against me?" The Courier could have asked the same thing. A better question, would by why Nanael was here in the first place, and how quickly she could leave.


	9. Chapter 9 - Third Impressions

Chapter 9 - Third Impressions

* * *

"So..where did you say you were from?" asked Leina, attempting both to make conversation and gain information about her taciturn companion.

"A far distant land. Somewhere not on this place's maps."

Well, she already knew _that_. In fact, that and his name was just about _all_ she knew about him. What kind of name was "Markus Friedrich" anyway? It sounded nothing like any of the names typical to any of the cultures she knew of. This would support his claim that he came from some far distant land. Assuming that it _was_ his actual name. Leina decided to give him the benefit the doubt, as despite with mysteriousness, she had very good reason to trust him. Two, fairly embarrassing reasons actually. And by that, she meant the two distinct instances in which he had saved her life. That alone showed that he had no ill intent towards her. That did bring up another question though.

"What happened after the ghosts knocked me out?"

"I punched Airi, or whatever her name was. She survived somehow and become incorporeal. She swore vengeance or something, and I told Nanael to **fuck off**."

The last part was quite clearly directed at the angel. Said angel was a lot quieter around Markus, something that Leina most certainly would not complain about. Nanael merely humphed in response. Markus also seemed to be eager for the angel to leave.

While she felt somewhat gratified by the fact that he shared her distaste for Nanael, the thing she couldn't get over, was that not only had he punched a demon, but he seemed surprised that said demon had survived.

"How hard do you punch!?"

"Very." He said, typically laconic.

"Where _exactly_ are you from?"

"The Mojave," he answered finally.

Leina was about to inquire further and press her success, but he continued before she could.

"It's a dangerous place. There are many factions. It was a battleground between major powers. Outside of the settlements lawlessness thrives."

That last part sounded familiar to Leina. One could never tell what they would find outside the cities. It was a small miracle that they had so far been unimpeded since they had left the elven forest. The description of the place as a battleground was more foreign for her. The Queen's Blade maintained relative peace throughout the continent.

It was strange. Markus had helped her more than anyone else, and in less than a day. Indeed, he as well seemed to be the only person with any intention of sticking with her. Although, from what he had told her, that was strictly due to necessity. It was still so strange that he hardly said anything. Still, he was much better company than Nanael. Perhaps he might open up after they got to know one another better.

His position to her was nebulous. He stayed close however, never getting too far ahead or behind. The former was more common than the latter. His strides were longer than hers, on account of the fact he was a good deal taller than she was. A sudden gust of wind fluttered his duster, bringing back to Leina's attention something she had nearly forgotten.

"What does that design mean?" she asked, gesturing to the double headed bear emblazoned on his back.

"It's the symbol of the New California Republic. It's one of the two major factions in the Mojave. They were my...employer."

"New California Republic". Leina had only understood one of those words. In any case, she found it unlikely that they had employed him in an administrative position. That left only one option.

"You were a mercenary?" asked Leina. Her only actual experience with mercenaries was with Echidna. And that was something she would rather not think about. She didn't have a really positive opinion of mercenaries even before meeting Echidna. From her noble upbringing, Leina viewed them as little more than killers for hire, owing loyalty to nothing and no one. They were viewed as fighters lacking honor and principle.

"Only technically. It was an arrangement that gave me operational freedom while allowing me to help them win the war."

War? He had fought in a war? Well, that explained his skills, but raised more questions than it answered. He seemed far too young to have fought in a war. But Leina knew better than to ask for details. It was common sense not to ask about that kind of thing. Most veterans of wars were not keen to talk about their experiences. The mystery of her companion, was only deepened by this new information. There was one thing that she knew almost for certain: he had killed before. That was an inescapable fact of war. Leina was not entirely sure how she felt about that. She certainly viewed Markus differently though. He seemed entirely oblivious to any change.

* * *

The land had risen into series of plateaus of steep cliffs. Even in this rocky, mountainous terrain, the Courier saw more green than he had seen outside of Oasis or Vault 22. Leina was doing her best to deal with Nanael's general annoyingness while he maintained his composure. Apparently they were headed to some village. Leina was trying to fix her sword or something. Durability was not really an issue with his bladed weapons as they were pre-war military grade, and thus made of various alloys of titanium.

Leina's annoyance with Nanael eventually just devolved into endless bickering, which was only slightly less annoying than Nanael's constant complaining. Eventually, he was saved from this fresh hell, by quite unlikely source. A woman in glasses, about a decade his senior, with breasts of a medically dangerous size approached them. Cattleya, as she was apparently named, the weapons smith Leina was looking for, had happened across them. Leina, now distracted from Nanael, ceased the bickering. They were now all heading to Cattleya's shop, where Leina intended to get her weapon fixed. Markus really wished he had something important to do. As it was, this was the best option he had in the long term.


	10. Chapter 10 - The Good Fight

**AN:** I would like to formally apologize for the general lack of updates. The Bringer Of War is officially on an indefinite hiatus for fairly obvious reasons. Since the last update on BoW I have read roughly a million words of stories that are probably better than mine. Most of those million are Twisted Reflections. I have also played through Dark Souls. \\[T]/ I may end up writing something for that, but don't hold your breath because if you do, you will die.

Chapter 10 - The Good Fight

* * *

"It's been awhile since we last met, Miss Leina."

"It's you!"

Markus' head was in his hand. A pose Leina noticed was becoming increasingly common for him.

"Leina...please tell me _why_ you know the woman with a snake for underwear?"

They had arrived at Cattleya's house/shop only to be greeted by someone that Leina had sincerely hoped never to see again.

"She's a mercenary my father sent to bring me back," said Leina hesitantly.

"Why's your father sending _mercenaries_ to retrieve you?" asked Markus.

The way he said mercenaries made it clear he had no great love for them. Which was strange, since he had said he was one. His actual question was more awkward to answer. Explaining that she was running away from a noble family for no real reason other than a desire for adventure was not the most desirable of prospects. Thankfully, she was saved by Cattleya.

"Why don't we all discuss this over dinner?"

"Actually, I have some things I need to take care of. Leina, I'll be back here at dawn."

And without waiting for an answer, he left.

Everyone present was slightly confused by his sudden departure. However after a few moments, they continued regardless. Leina was wary, but things seemed to be going well so far. She really hoped that Markus had not decided to abandon her.

"So Leina, who's your boyfriend?"

Leina almost choked. Her face turned very red. Whether that was from embarrassment or lack of oxygen was anyone's guess. As she attempted to save herself from asphyxiation, Echidna kept talking. Despite Leina's fervent praying that she would stop.

"I know it's not for me to judge, but I can't imagine that your sisters will take this well."

Finally, Leina managed to attempt to respond,

"I'm not-, he's not-, we're not-"

Echidna laughed.

"I'm only teasing you Leina. While he _was_ handsome, he seems too cold for anything _fun._ "

Leina's face redden further in embarrassment (if that was even possible). Though, she could not disagree with Echidna's assessment of her companion. A block of ice would have had difficulty rivalling his coldness. Her attempts at friendliness had failed to evoke anything of the kind in response.

"I wonder where he had to go so urgently?" Cattleya rhetorically asked.

Leina was wondering the same thing.

Markus exited into the clear evening air. For once, he didn't have a plan. He simply felt that he had more important things to be doing. Yet, as he began walking away from the house, into the wilderness, he knew he didn't. To be completely honest, he felt he was in over his head.

The last time he had ended up in a strange place was after getting shot in the head. That had provided him with a simple and immediate goal: revenge. Now, he had nothing. Typically, he went around solving problems, trying to fix the world on any level he could. Here however, society seemed to be functioning. Or was it? He had not seen much of this place, but from what he _had_ seen, people seemed better off than their wasteland counterparts. Although, a post-apocalyptic wasteland didn't set a very high bar in terms of a standard of living.

From what he had gathered, this seemed to be a feudal society. If he had to estimate where in time this seemed to be, the Courier would have guessed no later than the fourteenth century. As far as he could tell, there was no renaissance occurring.

Of course, he had the problem that essentially everything he knew about this place he knew from Leina and would thus be colored by her prejudice and bias. Speaking of Leina, he had left her in the company of Cattleya and that mercenary. While he only cared about Leina in a humanitarian and utilitarian sense, he still had reason to question his decision to leave her alone. Based on the demon incident, he had no confidence in her ability to defend herself. However, he deemed it highly unlikely that she was in any danger. Cattleya seemed entirely non-threatening, and while the merc was the most likely source of conflict, the fact that Leina had encountered her before meant that he could assume that they would not kill one another. That wouldn't stop him from feeling guilty as all hell if Leina ended up dead though.

The Courier did not like the mercenary. In fact, a good majority of his instincts told him to kill her. To be fair, he did not like mercenaries as a rule; a maxim instilled by Talon Company. Of course, the Courier was not one to kill people based purely on his instincts, but he knew well enough that feelings were a good enough reason to be on his guard. The merc felt dangerous. Not necessarily in the sense that she was a threat to him, but more in the sense that she was scheming.

And there was the fact that she was using a live snake as underwear. That alone was enough to give him a headache. Barring how nutty that seemed, it did not seem like that should have been possible. Still, he appreciated that she made it easy to identify her as insane. Then again, more people than not typically were in the wastes. The question was not whether they were insane but whether they were a danger to others. Jason Bright and his followers could attest to that.

As he walked further into the untamed wilderness, he returned to his contemplation of what exactly his purpose was here. While the tall pine trees around him were too dense for the Courier to make out the horizon, the rapid shift in color in the sky above him told him sundown was approaching.

His cause, "The Good Fight" which he had taken up from his father, was a fundamentally humanitarian one. It was in many ways, the only way he functioned and he had always placed priority of it over literally everything else. The problem was now, he saw no problems to solve. His plan was to head to the capital and figure everything out there. But this was taking longer than he had really considered.

He supposed he wasn't thinking this through properly. Nowhere was perfect. Especially somewhere as primitive as this. People lived only marginally better here than they did in the wasteland. That was something he could help. Raise the standard of living. He also realized that he knew nothing of the government. They could be as bad as the Enclave or even the Legion.

While the latter was highly unlikely, the Courier knew history well enough that a feudal government was unlikely to have even heard of the concept of human rights. So what, was he to become a pamphleteer? A revolutionary? Neither seemed attractive options. Regime change was always messy, even in the best of circumstances. Still, he was getting ahead of himself. Currently, all this was just baseless speculation. Nothing of any practical value.

Still, he had a good ten hours to kill. He felt no inclination to sleep. While it was necessary for him to do so, he was accustomed to spending long periods awake. It might be a good idea to scout the surrounding area and see if there was anything he could find that might give him more information about the situation. Further surveying of the town would also provide him intelligence about the government of this land. The welfare of the people should be of primary importance to the state. Thus, he could infer the quality of the government from the state of the citizens. It was not a foolproof plan, but it would keep him occupied. He had had enough of doing nothing.


	11. Chapter 11 - Special Reconnaissance

Chapter 11 - Special reconnaissance

* * *

The Courier made no sound as he glided wraithlike through the densely forested highland. His movements were both precise and fluid, meaning that despite the heavy layer of dead wood that covered the earthen floor, the natural sounds of the forest remained undisturbed. The only light in the area originated either from the stars or the ambient red glow of the two lenses in his helmet. The Courier had changed into his Elite Riot Armor once the last vestiges of day had disappeared from the sky. While relative to other humans, he had excellent night vision, it did not compare with what technology could achieve.

He was practically invisible, the dull green of his armor fading easily into dark background of the trees. In all places the Lone Courier went, he made sure to pay attention to the sounds of nature. It was good tactics and to a degree, common sense. Any disruption in the patterns of natural sound meant trouble. While this system led to many false alarms, with the stakes he played with, false alarms were hardly a concern. Thus one of the first things he had noticed, now that he was on his own, was the unique sounds of this place at night. Compared to the Mojave, nature felt too loud. He supposed that most things that made noise here were killed in Great War. He found it ironic that nature sounded unnatural to him. Even the crickets sounded different here. Not to mention the plethora of other animalistic sounds he was unable to identify.

His plan for reconnaissance was to go in a large loop centered on the village. Periodically, he would crawl his way to any vantage point he found, being careful to minimize his silhouette. While even he realized this was probably unnecessary, old habits died hard and he would not have felt comfortable that exposed. Regardless, so far he had not encountered anything. He had not found it likely that he would, but he felt slightly disappointed.

To the right of the Courier, the alpine firs thinned. Eventually he could see that they gave way to a short open area before a rise blocked his view. After a moment of mental debate, the Courier turned right, deciding that a view from an elevated position in this direction was worth it if only for the sake of being thorough. His crossing of the open ground was swift, his movement perceptible only as a fleeting shadow in the near total dark of the night. He had timed his crossing so that the crescent moon's light had been dulled by a wisp of cloud.

He dropped into a prone position as soon as he started to move upwards. To an ordinary person, not accustomed to stealth, it would seem that the Courier was moving agonizingly slowly. However, the key to the execution of all forms of infiltration and evasion was patience. Patience was something he had choice of learning or dying without it. When he finally summited the bluff (as the sheer face determined it was), Markus was greeted with what was by his standards a majestic sight. Below him, forest sprawled unevenly over terrain of vastly varying elevations. To his right he saw the dim light of the moon reflect off a stream too distant to be heard. Even after having seen similar sights mere minutes before, the novelty had not worn off on him. To the people who inhabited this place, sights like these were nothing out of the ordinary. However compared to the wastelands the Courier was used to traveling, everywhere he went looked like Eden. Then to his left he saw, far in the distance, a little luminous orange dot. Mental alarm bells were ringing even before the Courier's brain had time to process the information. _Fire._

They were not alone. His rational side said that it was highly unlikely that whomever was out there was hostile, but his paranoid side insisted that he confirm that. What he knew for certain was that this was unusual. The locals would not be camping somewhere so near the village.

His first step in investigating the fire was to materialize Christine's CoS Rifle. Using it scope for observation, he did his best to gather as much information as he could from this distance. Despite the its optical zoom, the Courier was unable to make much out save for very rough outlines of figures. From what he could tell based on the swaying of the flames, there were a minimum of three people down there. If he wanted to know more, he would need to get closer. So he would have to get closer. And he felt the need to do so quickly. While the fire was currently burning brightly and was stationary if either of those things changed, he would lose his ability to investigate further.

With speed in mind, he slid down the twenty feet or so of cliff before landing rather jarringly. He relied on his reinforced bones to absorb the impact, but it still pained his joints. The Courier then set off at what he would consider at light jog towards the last known position of the flames, only making marginally more noise than he was previously. A sudden change in the breeze meant that even through the air filters of his helmet he caught the distinctive smell of smoke. The fire had been made at some of the lowest altitude in the area, the reason for which the Courier assumed was to aid in concealment. In fact, had his vantage point been any lower, it was unlikely he would have seen it at all.  
His pace only slowed when he saw the faintest traces of light up ahead. He took up a crouched position and moved forward more slowly. The fire was slowly dying. It seemed to have been left unattended. All three people he had seen appeared to be sleeping. All three were female, with two of them wearing as little as one expected in this place whereas the other appeared to be more conventionally dressed (by his standards anyway). He gave them no more than a cursory observation. Then, however, the one across from him woke up. She was one of the scantily clad ones and was wearing predominantly red. She was looking directly at where he was, yet he was entirely certain she could not see him. The shrub he was taking cover behind did an impeccable job of concealing him. The fact that one of them was conscious was irrelevant to his plans. All he would do is scan them and leave. That would confirm that they weren't a threat. Although, based on the technology of this place, he had nothing to fear. Especially as small a group as this. A group of three posed a very limited threat at best to him.

Unfortunately, his AR scanner implant was getting interrupted by the shrub breaking visual contact with any of the people he wanted to scan. This left him with a problem. While the woman was likely only half awake, in this lighting even in his stealth suit he could not get closer for an unobstructed view without being seen. Which led him to reluctantly retreating into the forests, preparing to continue his circuit around the village, reasonably convinced this group was no threat.

* * *

Risty, for her part, was not entirely sure whether she had dreamed the appearance of two red lights, almost like eyes watching her before one got brighter than the other and they both disappeared. Regardless, she would not mention it to her companions.

* * *

 **AN:** Just a heads up, at some point there's going to be a dead period while I do some editing on BoW.


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